He laughed somewhat harshly. "As free as a bird," he retorted, "to fly whither you will."
She did not answer, but unthreaded the ring, with trembling fingers, and handed it to him without a word.
He drew back, shaking his head. "Will you honour me by keeping it as a memento of your—ah!—freedom? To think upon, in happier days?"
"I will keep it," she said softly, "in memory of a man whom I could wish to love!"
A silence fell between them, which the girl presently broke.
"You also had something to tell me?" she said.
He roused himself. "It is true—I had almost forgot!" He stopped and looked about them, as if to reassure himself that they were quite alone. "Your father is very ill," he began, "too ill to receive proper attention aboard this ship. I have decided, therefore,"—he lowered his voice to a whisper,—"to transfer him, as soon as he is able, to the first steamer we meet. It can be arranged, quite simply, with assumed names. You will take him to some quiet place, and, when he is quite restored, return with him to America."
The light of a great hope shone in her eyes.
Impulsively, she bent down, and touched his hand with her lips. "I can never, never repay you!" she murmured.
He rose smiling. From where he stood, the man in the mainmast was visible. He was shouting to somebody on the bridge, and pointing northward.